A man in a terribly tattered old cloak limps before a small gathered crowd in Sarun. He waves his silver stave about, drawing intention to himself and shouting out. His face is concealed all but his lips as they shift about forming the words of compassion and forgiveness. Words meant for the heretics of Seventis.
"People of Seventis! Dost thou know wherefore your fallacies are worshiped? Dost thou speak so plainly in heretical exclamations of thee and thou people? 'Tis not the truth, go forth into the light of our lord God and his favored son! God cries forth, your people hath abandoned the truth of the World. These voices of mine speak not of threat, but of thou ignorance! Live again, heretics, in the light of God! Your Gods are purposeless! If thou hast will to live in Asulon without thine end swift and smitten by God and his favored son, thou must come forth unto God and Horen thouselves!
Your king is false; his truth is clouded by his judgements. He hath bestowed upon you fallacy in the eyes of God and Horen. Thou must see through his ignorance! Thou must knoweth he is not evil, but ignorant. God and Horen are the truth of thine souls! The truth of thine lives! If thee willst thouselves to live in the Seven Skies again, then thou must come forth and bring thouselves into Horen and God and the Church! The rightful king of humankind, His Majesty Godfrey, first of his name, hath been ordained by God by his very blood!
If thou do not seek out redemption for thine fallacies, God, not man, will smite ye however horrid it be! No threat comes from my voice, but truth! God and Horen, not these false heresies!"
The preacher raises his hands high, the cloak still concealing his eyes and face besides his mouth. He smiles gently, his words compassionate, not accusatory.